


The Best Contract at Court

by barbitone



Series: Captive Prince Fanfiction [28]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Auguste (Captive Prince) Lives, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27918628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbitone/pseuds/barbitone
Summary: Ancel tries to lock down a contract with the most powerful man at court- King Auguste. Despite his best efforts, Ancel ends up spending most of his time with the King’s boring servant who always wears the same ugly brown jacket.
Relationships: Ancel/Berenger (Captive Prince)
Series: Captive Prince Fanfiction [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1455904
Comments: 323
Kudos: 278





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a tumblr prompt- though I made some changes along the way XD
> 
> Prompt: August!lives AU where Ancel tries to score a contract with the crown prince but Auguste always keeps getting pulled away from all his attempts to seduce and he keeps getting left there with the boring councilor from Varenne who always wears the same ugly brown jacket.  
> -https://king-smaurent.tumblr.com/post/178099151011/hmmmmmmmm-augustlives-au-where-ancel-tries-to

* * *

Ancel’s entire life had been leading up to this.

He’d crawled his way out of the brothels of Sanpelier and into the arms of a merchant’s son. He’d convinced the merchant’s son to lend him to Louans, and Louans to take him to a party at Lord Rouart’s villa. He’d seduced Lord Rouart, who had taken him to court, and there he’d slithered his way into a contract with Lord Droet.

He’d connived and manipulated, he’d built a fortune and a reputation, he’d bribed his way into performing his fire dance during the banquet honoring the Patran delegation and now, after all of that- he was finally where he’d always known he would be. Standing outside the King’s chambers.

Ancel felt giddy as he adjusted his hair and clothes, more modest than that of the other pets though no less fine. He didn’t flaunt his assets for free, and he found the slight air of mystery served him well. He’d sold most of his past gifts and bought a few particularly lovely pieces of jewelry, making sure that now, here, he looked fine enough to belong to a King.

When the guards opened the door he smiled and glided inside with a whisper of silks.

For a moment he was distracted by how lavish the rooms were- gold and jewels glittered from every corner, every bit of furniture was decorated with carvings and every inch of floor, wall, and ceiling was covered in ornate tiles and elaborate tapestries.

And then he finally caught sight of the chaise before the fire, and King Auguste sitting sprawled over it with a goblet of wine in his hand.

“Your Majesty,” Ancel said with a deep bow and didn’t even have to fake the reverent tone of his voice.

King Auguste was even more handsome up close, dressed in a casual white shirt and plain riding trousers, than he was bedecked in all his splendor in the throne room. He wore a simple gold circlet around his brow that wasn’t nearly as brilliant as his shining curls. Every line of his body exuded power and strength.

“Uh,” said King Auguste, frowning a little and narrowing his eyes. “What-”

“Your Majesty.”

Ancel startled. He hadn’t noticed the other man in the room. He was standing by the fireplace, half hidden in the shadows. He was dressed simply in an ugly brown jacket. A servant perhaps? Though he seemed rather comfortable in the King’s chambers, and he had a wine glass of his own. A valet, then. Or maybe a favored retainer.

“This is the pet,” the man continued. “From the banquet? He performed for the Patran delegation.”

“Of course,” King Auguste said. “Of course. Anton.”

Ancel felt the corner of his mouth twitch, his smile becoming fixed and stiff.

“Ancel, Your Majesty,” corrected the valet.

“Of course,” King Auguste said. “Ancel. Your performance was exemplary. I’ve never seen such fine acrobatics.”

The valet coughed awkwardly. “Your Majesty,” he murmured. “Ancel performed the fire dance.”

“Oh,” King Auguste said. “Is that so?” He looked over at his companion with a faintly puzzled expression, raising his eyebrows. The valet raised his eyebrows too, as if answering some unspoken question. It was all Ancel could do not to scowl as he watched their silent conversation.

“Yes, of course,” King Auguste said. “The fire dance. Very impressive.”

Ancel swallowed and forced himself to put on his game face. The King would remember his name soon enough. He smiled demurely and took a few steps towards the chaise. 

“You honor me, Your Majesty,” he said, making sure to sound breathy and star struck. He sank to his knees before the chaise and reached out to set his hand gently on the King’s thigh. The heavy corded muscle twitched under his hand as King Auguste startled.

“Well,” King Auguste said after a moment of silence. “Well- I intend to reward you handsomely, of course. The Patran delegation was very impressed. You’re a credit to your master.”

“I’m between masters, at present,” Ancel said, batting his eyelashes. He let his hand trail a bit higher up King Auguste’s thigh. “And I hear Your Majesty is between pets, as well.”

“Yes,” King Auguste said. “Yes, well-”

The door burst open and a harried messenger tumbled inside. “Your Majesty,” he gasped out, his face a splotchy red. “Your presence is required urgently-”

“I see,” King Auguste said, standing and unceremoniously dislodging Ancel’s hand. “I’d better-” he turned to the valet and made a vague gesture. “Berry- you’ll handle this?”

The valet nodded and King Auguste hurried out of the room.

Ancel stared after him, slack jawed. This was not how this was supposed to go. He was supposed to charm the King off his feet and right into bed, and then he was supposed to have the best contract at court.

“This is bullshit,” he said flatly, standing up.

“Excuse me?” the valet asked. Bailey. Baris. Borry. Whatever.

 _“Bullshit,”_ Ancel spit out, looking around the room. King Auguste had left his wine behind, the goblet still half full. Ancel picked it up and took a delicate sip. It was delicious, a vintage fit for a King. He took another, deeper drink. “Do you know how many cocks I had to suck to even get a spot performing at the banquet?!”

The valet seemed dumbfounded as Ancel glared at him.

“When is he coming back?”

“I couldn’t say,” the valet said.

Ancel understood what that meant. King Auguste wouldn’t be returning any time soon.

“Fuck this,” Ancel muttered, wandering over to the writing desk by the window and looking through the parchments laid over it. He couldn’t read any of them, of course. There didn’t seem to be anything else interesting there but Ancel idly searched the drawers anyway.

He finished the wine and set it down loudly on the writing desk before looking over at the valet, who was leaning against the wall beside the fireplace with his free hand in his pocket, his other holding his own glass of wine. He was watching Ancel curiously, his lips quirked up a little and the firelight playing over the planes of his clean-shaven face. The cut of his jacket was very nice, as was the fabric. It seemed it paid to be the King’s personal attendant. The color though… Unfortunate.

“Well?” Ancel asked, raising his eyebrow.

“Well?” the man echoed. Berry. King Auguste had called him Berry.

“More wine,” Ancel ordered, leaving his glass on the table and wandering over to the King’s wardrobe. There was a delicate key in the lock and Ancel twisted it before throwing the doors open. 

“Wow,” he breathed out, trailing his fingertips over all the fine fabrics. A particularly elegant jacket caught his eye, made of green satin and embroidered with mother of pearl beads and gold thread in delicate designs.

He pressed the sleeve to his cheek, closing his eyes at the sensation of the cool fabric sliding over his skin. It smelled of dried flowers and cedar. It had probably cost more than his contract with Droet. Ancel pulled the jacket out and slipped it on, letting the laces trail to the ground.

There was a door beside the wardrobe and Ancel went to push it open, finding a bedchamber just as beautiful as the sitting room. There was another cabinet there, the doors made of stained glass panels. And inside the cabinet was the most amazing jewelry Ancel had ever seen.

“Wow,” he whispered once more, opening the doors wide. They weren’t even locked.

“Wine,” the valet said. He’d come into the room behind Ancel and was holding out a full glass.

“Not now,” Ancel said, waving him away irritably. At the center of the cabinet was an ornate crown, gold and sapphires and diamonds glittering in the low light. Ancel reached out with shaking hands and put it on. It was heavy and too large for him. It tilted down on his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes, so he laughed before taking it off and putting it back.

He put on a thick bracelet instead, made of twisting gold wire and giant rubies, a few ostentatious rings, a necklace adorned by an enormous diamond. There was a looking glass in the corner and Ancel went to stand before it, admiring himself in the King’s things.

“When I’m his pet I’ll get to wear these all the time,” he said, stroking the necklace. The valet came up to stand behind him, still holding the glass of wine. Ancel took it from him and took a drink before striking a pose in front of the mirror, enjoying the way he glittered.

“Is that what you want?” Berry asked. “To be the King’s pet?”

“Obviously,” Ancel said, rolling his eyes.

“I’m afraid you’re not his type.”

“I’m everyone’s type,” Ancel retorted before frowning and turning to look Berry in the eye. “Why? What does he like?”

“Women.”

Ancel laughed. “Every master or client I’ve ever had liked _women._ But they can’t have women, can they. They don’t exactly complain when they’ve got me on all fours with my face shoved in a pillow.”

He turned back to look at the mirror and caught a glimpse of Berry’s expression twisting into something strange. Something… sad. It made Ancel’s gut seize unpleasantly so he forced a grin and struck another pose, tilting his chin up and meeting Berry’s eyes. “Well? How do I look?”

“It’s a bit gaudy, don’t you think?” Berry asked. He seemed amused, which was incredibly annoying.

“What do _you_ know,” Ancel muttered. Except the combination of the jewelry and the jacket did look kind of gaudy. He felt annoyed all over again about being snubbed by the King after all his efforts. When would he ever get a chance like this again? What if he couldn’t afford to pay for it a second time?

Ancel swallowed hard, his mood completely ruined. “Fuck,” he whispered.

“Is something the matter?”

Ancel got himself together and turned to the valet, Berry. “No,” he said curtly, holding out the wrist with the bracelet on it. “Attend me.”

The man dutifully removed the borrowed jewelry and returned it to the case. And then he helped Ancel off with the jacket and put that away too. Ancel was left in front of the looking glass as himself again. Except now he felt stupid and alone. Did he really think the King would want him? Even with the silks and the jewels, he was still just an upstart whore, a street urchin from Sanpelier and a complete nobody. The King didn’t even know his name.

“I think this will suit you better,” Berry said, returning to the room.

Ancel ignored him until he draped an elegant string of emeralds over Ancel’s neck, carefully brushing his hair over his shoulder before fastening the clasp.

“Oh,” Ancel said, smiling for real. “It’s lovely.” The necklace was obviously expensive, made of delicately-wrought gold and glittering stones. The emeralds matched Ancel’s eyes perfectly, like the necklace had been made just for him.

He couldn’t help reaching out to touch.

“It’s yours,” Berry said.

“Mine?!” Ancel exclaimed, whirling around to face him.

“Yes,” Berry said. “Your reward, for your performance.” He seemed pleased and almost… _proud_ as he ran his eyes down Ancel’s body, lingering on the emeralds.

“Oh,” Ancel said, smirking as he leaned a little closer to him. “You picked them out, didn’t you.”

“What?” Berry asked, startled.

“You did,” Ancel said, sure of it now. Of course the King wouldn’t be picking gifts for random pets that caught his fancy. He raised his finger and ran it down the side of Berry’s face, watching the blush blooming over his cheeks. “You arranged this too,” he continued on a pure hunch. “You arranged for me to be brought here.” It hadn’t been the King, that was for sure. King Auguste didn’t even know which performance was his at the banquet.

“I- what?” Berry stuttered.

“You’re sweet,” Ancel said, moving closer so their chests were nearly pressed together. “Did you arrange for him to be called away? So that we could be alone together?”

“I- no,” Berry said.

Ancel smirked up at him, unconvinced. Berry was young, certainly younger than any of the men Ancel had slept with. He was more attractive too, in a sort of understated way. Tall but not too tall, slim but not too slim. He clearly had a nice body under his jacket, wide shoulders and a trim waist. There was a touch of gray at his temples, but otherwise his hair was a rich chestnut, cut short and combed neatly with a lock of hair falling over his forehead. He really was rather handsome. 

Shame he was just a servant.

Ancel leaned in close enough so that when he spoke his lips nearly brushed Berry’s skin. “Don’t fall in love with me,” he murmured into Berry’s ear. “I’ll only break your heart.”

Berry seemed rather flustered when Ancel pulled away, so Ancel winked at him before turning to leave, returning to his own tiny room for the night. 

The evening hadn’t gone the way he’d hoped but it wasn’t a total loss. He lay in his narrow bed, stroking the jewels still around his neck, as he considered what to do next.


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

Clearly Ancel had to find a way to catch the King’s eye. From what he’d already learned of the King’s schedule, he knew it would be no easy task. That didn’t matter- nothing worth having was ever easily won. Ancel wasn’t about to give up after a single failed attempt.

The King spent his mornings training with his guard in his private training yard. He usually took luncheon with his brother, the two of them eating alone in the King’s rooms or sometimes in the gardens when the weather was pleasant. Ancel knew better than to try and interrupt- he’d heard enough stories about the King’s ire when the luncheons were cut short. After luncheon, the King spent most of his time in meetings and at court or Council. Dinner was always a grand affair in the main banquet hall, the King’s table seeing a revolving cast of courtiers and dignitaries.

There was no chance for an audience during the carefully orchestrated chaos, not unless an entertainment happened to catch King Auguste’s eye. To Ancel’s great frustration he found that the King hardly seemed interested in the entertainments at all. Of course he would pretend to watch out of politeness, but his gaze lingered more on the plainly dressed maids going about the hall with pitchers of wine than any of the jewel-encrusted pets vying for his attention.

After dinner he retreated to his study or more endless boring meetings, and that was the end of it.

After two weeks of looking for an opening Ancel was starting to despair. King Auguste, it seemed, was the most boring man in existence. Finally Ancel managed to find the right servant to bribe and found out the only bit of information that might be any use to him at all:

King Auguste had a habit of taking his horse out for a ride at dawn before beginning the day’s business. The stables, though disgusting, would be private. The perfect place to run into each other.

Ancel prepared carefully. He left his hair long and loose and painted his face subtly to enhance the femininity of his features- his wide eyes, his elegant cheekbones, his soft lips. He dressed in tight riding trousers that would show off his perfect ass and a billowy shirt that would hopefully obscure his lack of breasts. Once he looked as much as a fresh country maiden as he could reasonably manage he headed down to the stables and bribed the King’s stableboy to let him into the private wing where the King’s horses were kept.

He wandered past the stalls, trying not to wrinkle his nose at the stench. There were two horses missing from their stalls, which meant Ancel wasn’t too late. He waited until he could hear approaching hoof beats and then turned towards one of the horses still in its stall- a sort of gray-orange beast with a messy splotch of white on its nose. It looked at him with cold eyes while Ancel nervously stepped a little closer, trying to pose in such a way that an onlooker might think he liked the damn thing.

Before much longer he could hear faint voices growing louder- unmistakably the King talking to some companion.

“Who’s- oh,” the King said.

Ancel turned, feigning surprise, and dropped into a hurried bow. “Your Majesty,” he murmured.

“Ancel?” the King asked.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Ancel said, straightening. He noticed the King’s companion was the valet from before, Berry. He didn’t say anything as he dismounted and led his horse into one of the empty stalls and started doing… something.

“Apologies,” Ancel continued. “I didn’t mean to disturb Your Majesty. I simply wished to see the horses.”

“Oh?” King Auguste asked, dismounting too. The stableboy ran up and King Auguste handed off his reins without looking. “You like horses?”

“They’re beautiful creatures,” Ancel demurred, looking down at his feet. “Your Majesty's horses are the finest in the land.” He didn’t think he imagined the spark of interest in the King’s eyes. Maybe this ploy had a chance at working after all.

King Auguste laughed. “Did you hear that, Berry? Your horses are the finest in the land.”

“Hm,” Berry hummed from his horse’s stall.

“Well,” King Auguste said with an easy smile, “if you like horses so much- take one.”

“I-  _ what?”  _ Ancel asked, shocked. The last thing he wanted was a giant slobbering monster to take care of. “I- couldn’t possibly.”

“Nonsense,” the King said, already turning away. “I’m off to training- I’ll see you later?”

Ancel frowned, confused, until he realized the King wasn’t talking to him.

“Yes,” Berry said, simple as that. “Don’t be late for the meeting with the Vaskian ambassador.”

“Am I ever?” King Auguste asked and strode out of the stables without further word.

Ancel felt himself deflate from the disappointment of it all. The second meeting had gone barely better than the first. He sighed and trudged over to the stall where Berry was still fussing over his horse.

“You have to help me,” Ancel whined, folding his arms over the top of the stall door and resting his chin on his hands.

“Help you?” Berry asked, looking over.

“Help me seduce the King,” Ancel said. He knew Berry fancied him, which could could either hurt or help him.

“Why would I do that?”

Ancel pouted. “I had to get up at the ass-crack of dawn to be here, so let’s skip the games. Just tell me what you want. You want me to suck you off? Once now, and once after? I won’t let you fuck me, but maybe I could-”

“Stop,” Berry said, raising his hand to cut Ancel off. “I don’t want- just. Stop. I’ll help you.”

“You will?” Ancel asked, beaming.

Berry sighed heavily and patted his horse on the neck before stepping out of the stall. Ancel moved to let him pass, clasping his hands behind his back as he waited. Berry went over to a barrel of spring water to wash his hands and face before wiping the water off with a plain handkerchief.

“This wasn’t a terrible idea,” he said. “Auguste loves horses and riding. He takes a ride every morning, sometimes alone, sometimes not. You could take a horse-”

“I can’t ride,” Ancel interrupted before that thought could go much further.

Berry seemed startled. “No? I could… teach you.”

Ancel wrinkled his nose, glancing over at the horse he'd pretended to be admiring earlier, the strange colored one.

“She’s a good steed,” Berry said, following Ancel’s gaze. “Calm, perfect for beginners. Her name is Ruby. Do you like her?”

“I like actual rubies,” Ancel said. “I need something better than horses. I can make him want me if I can bring something to his life- something no one else can. But all he does is  _ work.  _ Doesn’t he ever do anything fun?”

Berry seemed taken aback as he stood in the middle of the stables, his face flushed and his hair still damp and dripping into his collar. “The King values his rare free time,” he started carefully. “But when he has it… he does have fun, yes.”

“Oh?” Ancel asked, leaning in with interest.

“Once a week he takes an evening to play cards with his King’s Guard.”

“Cards,” Ancel repeated gleefully. He could play cards.

“Although,” Berry said with a small smile. “If your plan is to succeed in the long term… you really will need to learn to ride. How else will you accompany him as he tours his kingdom?”

“In the  _ carriage,”  _ Ancel said, appalled.

“And to romantic picnics? How will you join him on the hunt?”

The thought of it made Ancel want to weep. For a moment he seriously considered scrapping this whole stupid plan.

Except it was the  _ King.  _ The best contract at court. He’d be set for life after just a few months of service, and if all he had to do was learn to ride a giant terrifying monster… then surely he could do it.

Berry laughed. “It’s not so bad, truly. They’re quite gentle.”

Ancel looked over at Ruby uneasily.  _ Gentle.  _ She could probably bite his entire arm off without even trying.

He thought of gold and jewels and silks, of dancing with the King while all the other pets stared and choked on their own jealousy. He thought of amassing a fortune and retiring somewhere to a fancy villa, ordering about an army of servants and only wearing the finest clothes. Maybe he could even find a lover of his own, someone  _ he  _ liked rather than some pig stuffed into a Lord’s suit. In his fantasy, his lover had calloused hands and windswept chestnut hair.

“Fine,” Ancel said at last. “Teach me, then.”

“Alright,” Berry said easily. “First lesson-”

“Not  _ now!”  _ Ancel hissed, taking a nervous step away from Ruby, watching him from her stall.

“Easy,” Berry said, clearly amused. “Just hold out your hand to her so she can become familiar with your scent. That’s all you have to do for now.”

Ancel screwed up his face in a grimace. As if he’d hold his hand anywhere near those giant teeth. “What if she bites me?”

“She won’t.”

“But what if she  _ does?” _

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Berry said, walking over to stand behind him and set his hands on Ancel’s waist. “Go on,” Berry said, pushing him forward a little.

Ancel went. It was a little less scary with Berry’s warm steady presence behind him.

“It’s alright,” Berry said encouragingly so Ancel slowly raised his hand.

His hand was shaking and he couldn’t smooth the grimace from his expression. Ruby stared at him placidly. The stall door suddenly seemed awfully flimsy. If the horse got mad, would it be able to break out and trample him to death?

“Don’t be scared,” Berry said, wrapping his fingers around Ancel’s wrist to guide his hand. “She won’t hurt you.”

Ancel let Berry maneuver him a little closer and the horse leaned in. He couldn’t help closing his eyes and turning his head to hide his face against Berry’s shoulder with a quiet whimper, bracing for the feeling of sharp teeth closing around his pretty innocent fingers-

But there were no teeth. He felt something warm and soft and fuzzy brushing against his knuckles and carefully peered over to see Ruby nosing at him. It lasted for less than a minute before the horse turned away, bored, and went back to eating her oats.

“See?” Berry said, letting go of him and stepping back. “Easy.”

“Right,” Ancel said, surprised. It had definitely been a lot less scary than he’d been expecting. He turned to face Berry and suddenly it was easy to smile. “Of course. Of course it was. I can handle it.”

“Of course,” Berry echoed, amused but not mocking.

“So you’ll teach me?” Ancel asked.

“If you like.”

Ancel grinned and took Berry’s face in his hands, dragging him in to plant a wet kiss on one cheek and then the other, leaving behind faint smudges of paint. When he pulled back, Berry was looking at him with a stunned expression, so Ancel laughed and patted him on the side of the face.

“Tomorrow, then,” he said with a grin. “Teach me to ride.”


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

Every day at noon, when the King and the other courtiers were busy with luncheon, Ancel met Berry in the royal stables for riding lessons.

It wasn’t as bad as he feared it would be. Ruby was pleasant enough for a giant bloodthirsty beast and Berry was a surprisingly good teacher. He showed Ancel how to properly saddle the horse and how to feed her sugar cubes and apples, holding his wrist to keep his hand steady while Ruby reached out to daintily take the treats with her giant teeth. By the time Berry first helped Ancel climb into the saddle, guiding his foot into the stirrup with a gentle hand on the calf of his boot, Ancel was hardly scared at all.

That first lesson lasted barely half an hour and mostly consisted of Ancel hanging on to the saddle for dear life while Berry led Ruby in circles around a paddock. Upon trying to dismount Ancel slipped and Berry caught him around the waist before he could tumble fully to the ground, helping him down carefully. Luckily no one was around to witness the embarrassing mishap, and Berry didn’t even tease him about it.

It went a bit more smoothly after that, though Ancel was amused to note that horse riding lessons seemed to involve quite a lot of touching. Berry would guide his hands when he hadn’t set the horse blanket quite right or tightened the saddle straps enough; he offered his arm to help Ancel on and off the horse. 

He didn’t seem to realize he was doing it, which was oddly sweet. Ancel found himself not minding so much. He was used to touch, obviously. He was used to amorous grabbing and wandering hands and lustful gazes. He wasn’t used to someone gallantly offering him a hand, or directing him with a gentle touch on his arm, his shoulder, his hip. He wasn’t used to someone being so careful with him, so oddly respectful, as though Berry saw him as a person instead of a prestigious accessory. Ancel couldn’t help basking in the attention, even if it did come from a servant.

After two weeks Ancel could confidently manage a trot all on his own, accompanying Berry on short rides through well-kept woodland paths. It was a nice reprieve from the gossip and scheming of court.

Berry was good company. He wasn’t chatty, mostly content to listen to Ancel talk about the gossip he’d overheard, the jewels he wanted, his various plans and schemes. Berry would interject every once in a while to add an observation of his own. Once or twice he even made Ancel laugh at his dry jokes, rare but all the more precious for it.

When he wasn’t busy with Berry, Ancel set about finding his way into the King’s weekly card game. His King’s Guard were an odd selection of men- all different in their own ways, though loyal to a fault. In the end it was former mercenary Lazar who offered Ancel an opening.

The man was outrageously flirtatious. It wasn’t so difficult to charm him into conversation after one of the ubiquitous feasts, and from there into a private salon.

Ancel let Lazar paw at him for a while before pushing him away when Lazar went to take off his shirt. 

“Nothing comes free,” he said in the face of Lazar’s puzzled expression.

“Oh,” Lazar said with a twist of his lips, his ardor cooled. “What do you want?”

“I want an invitation to the King’s card game.”

Lazar frowned. “And you’d trade a fuck for that?”

“No,” Ancel said haughtily. “I wouldn’t even if you could afford me. The promise of a fuck was just an excuse to get you alone. I want in on the game- if I lose, you get to keep this.” It hurt his heart a little to raise his hand to his lavish emerald necklace, a gift from (Berry) the King. But it was the most valuable thing he owned- and it would be nothing if he couldn’t get this contract. Besides, he wasn’t about to lose.

Lazar whistled, low and impressed. “That’s worth a fortune, Red.”

“Believe me,” Ancel retorted, “I know.”

Maybe Lazar was hurting for coin, or maybe he was just curious. Two days later Ancel was seated at his side in the guard quarters, shuffling cards when King Auguste snuck in through a back door.

“Oh,” he said in surprise, taking in the view of Ancel seated amidst his stony-faced guards. “Ancel. What a surprise.”

“Your Majesty,” Ancel said with a low bow. “I hope you don’t mind me joining your game?”

“The more the merrier,” Lazar said, patting Ancel on the shoulder. “Right?”

“I’ve no complaints,” King Auguste said with an easy shrug, “so long as there’s enough ale for all of us.”

Orlant and Huet laughed while the other guard, Jord, seemed a bit put out.

Ancel felt a thrill of victory thrumming through his veins as he dealt the cards. It was clear this was just a friendly game- the ale flowing freely and the bets kept to a minimum- so it shouldn’t be too difficult to win.

It was easy enough to shine in the intimate atmosphere- to laugh at all the King’s jokes and make ones of his own, shocking even Lazar with bawdy tales. Within the hour he had everyone hanging onto his every word, which made it even easier to palm cards and rig the shuffling.

Ancel thoroughly fleeced the King and his entire guard, ending the game with a tidy sum of gold and the amazed gazes of five men upon him. He only cared about the one.

“I’m not sure we should invite you back here again,” King Auguste said, though he seemed more amused than displeased. His cheeks were a bit flushed from the ale and he looked more relaxed than Ancel had ever seen him.

“I promise to go easy on you next time,” Ancel said with a wink, gathering his winnings into a money purse before slipping it into his blouse. It looked like he’d finally caught the King’s eye.

Lazar went to pour another round of drinks but Ancel stood and bowed to the men before him. It was better to go early and leave his companions craving more of his company than to overstay his welcome.

“Alas, it’s quite late,” Ancel said apologetically. “I really must get my beauty sleep.”

To his surprise and great pleasure, King Auguste stood too. “It’s late, as you said. A pretty young pet like you shouldn’t be wandering about on your own. I’ll escort you to your rooms.”

“You honor me, Your Majesty,” Ancel breathed out with an elegant bow.

And then- wonder of wonders- King Auguste offered his arm like he might offer it to a lady of the court. Ancel felt positively giddy as he took it.

The giddiness started to fade the farther away they got from the center of the palace, King Auguste’s expression growing faintly puzzled and then outright confused. By the time they were standing in front of Ancel’s door, tiny and stained with water damage, a small pathetic thing in the corner of the servant’s quarters, Ancel was starting to feel a bit ill. This had been a mistake, all his mystique and grace spoiled in one horrible miscalculation.

“You live- _here?”_ King Auguste asked, pushing open the door to peer inside.

It was a small but tidy room, lit only by the moonlight shining through the solitary window. Ancel hadn’t been willing to waste any of his limited funds on lamp oil.

“I don’t have a master at present,” Ancel said, trying to keep his voice from going sour.

“So you live- _here,”_ King Auguste repeated.

Ancel crossed his arms over his chest with a scowl.

King Auguste blinked, looking between him and the room. “Well this won’t do. Not at all. I’ll have the steward find a better room for you, closer to me. I want you to teach me how you cheated at cards so I can show up Laurent.”

“Oh,” Ancel said in surprise, warming up once more with pleasure. “Thank you, Your Majesty,” he murmured, bowing deeply.

By the time he’d straightened, King Auguste was gone, but Ancel was still giddy as he stepped into his room and threw himself on his narrow bed, his face aching with how widely he was smiling. The King wanted to bring Ancel to a room closer to his!

He was so excited he had trouble sleeping, and in the morning he was awakened by the palace steward knocking on his door. He didn’t exactly have many things to pack, but he grabbed the handful of his clothes and the small satchel where he kept his face paints before following the steward out.

The man took him to the royal wing and took a key from his pocket to unlock a sturdy wood door decorated with relief carvings of flowers and exotic animals. There was a single room beyond, though it was so much more spacious than Ancel’s previous lodging. And it was _luxurious._ Nowhere near the rooms of his masters, of course, but this was a room all for him.

To his right was a large bed made up with satin sheets and surrounded by sheer curtains, tied back with ribbons. To the left was a wardrobe, the doors inlaid with decorative mother of pearl tiles, a vanity, and a round table that bore a vase of fresh flowers and a bowl of exotic fruits as well as a slab of slate with a selection of cheeses and dried fruits, artfully arranged cookies and slices of bread. In the corner of the room stood a large tub, partly walled off from the rest of the space by a delicate wooden screen. At the back of the room was a wall of stained glass and a door that led out onto a small balcony overlooking the gardens.

He had a _balcony._

“Servants will come every afternoon to tidy up and change the sheets, the flowers, the fruit,” the steward said, setting Ancel’s key on the table. “Let them know if you require anything else.”

“Anything else?” Ancel asked, taking in the space giddily. He had _servants._ Not really his, technically. But still. _Servants._

“A bath,” the steward said, motioning to the tub. “A meal. That sort of thing. His Majesty King Auguste has asked that you be made comfortable.” The man had a faintly disapproving set to his mouth but Ancel didn’t care. “Is there anything you require presently?”

“No,” Ancel said. “No, thank you.”

He was still beaming as the steward turned to leave.

Ancel threw himself into his new bed for the most luxurious nap of his life, then gathered up all the food in a kerchief and stole a bottle of cooking wine from the kitchens before heading to the stables for his riding lesson. 

Berry was already there, as he usually was, and they went for their customary noon-time ride into the royal forest. Ancel pulled to a stop once they reached a pleasant meadow by a babbling brook.

Berry stopped too, watching with faint confusion as Ancel climbed off Ruby and made himself comfortable in the grass, finally revealing his haul with a grin.

“What’s all this?” Berry asked as Ancel set out fruit and cheese and bread over a linen napkin.

“A picnic,” Ancel said, pulling the cork out of the wine. “We’re celebrating.”

“Oh?” Berry asked, finally climbing down too and sitting beside him. Ancel offered the bottle of wine and Berry took a careful sniff before taking a drink, only to cough and press his hand to his lips like an offended Lady. “What is this?”

Ancel rolled his eyes before taking the wine back and a deep swig of his own. “Honestly,” he muttered. “You’ve been spending too much time with the King if you’ve lost your taste for what normal folk drink.”

Berry seemed even more confused, blinking slowly, so Ancel shoved a piece of cheese towards him. At least he didn’t seem to find anything wrong with that.

“The King gave me new rooms,” Ancel announced, picking the ripest plum out of the assortment of fruit he’d brought. “Closer to his. In the royal wing.” When he took a bite, juice ran down his chin and he laughed, wiping with the back of his hand before bringing it up to his mouth to lick away.

He caught Berry watching and winked at him, which caused the man to start and look down at the wine, taking a drink without any further complaints.

“Congratulations,” Berry murmured.

Ancel always wore his oldest trousers and plainest shirt for riding lessons, so he had no care for his clothes as he leaned back on his elbows, turning his face up to catch the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees. He peered through his lashes at Berry drinking and eating, picking the plainest offerings and ignoring the imported fruits and berries and delicate iced cookies. So maybe he wasn’t unforgivably spoiled after all.

“What do you do for him, anyway?” Ancel asked. “For the King?” He’d figured by now that Berry was no ordinary servant, not with the way he seemed to spend leisure time in the King’s company. Maybe they’d been playmates as boys, or maybe Berry was some sort of special assistant. An accountant, perhaps. Or maybe a personal secretary.

Berry seemed startled at the question. “Whatever he asks of me,” he answered simply.

“Oh?” Ancel asked with a lazy smirk. _“Anything?”_

Berry blinked slowly and ate another piece of bread.

“So if he asked you to get on your knees and suck his cock-”

Berry choked on his bread and Ancel laughed, sitting up to pat him on the back.

“He wouldn’t,” Berry said, his face still red from choking or maybe from indignant outrage.

“Don’t look so offended,” Ancel said easily, reclining back into the grass with his hands cushioning his head. “It’s not so terrible, anyway. Just put it in your mouth and think of something else.”

“Is that what you do?”

“Of course not,” Ancel said, feigning offense. “I’m a professional. I have more finesse than that.” Not that he got the chance to display it very often. Most of his clients seemed perfectly content with ramming their cocks down his throat until they came. Maybe King Auguste wouldn’t be like that, although that seemed a silly hope. 

It didn’t matter in the end. Having the contract of the most powerful man at court, in the entire country, would be worth any temporary unpleasantness.

“Anyway,” Ancel continued, shoving his thoughts aside. “I only ask because I thought you might be able to help me.”

“Of course,” Berry said, though it sounded oddly flat. “And what is it that you need? How shall I help you seduce the King now?”

“Oh, forget it,” Ancel said, flushing. “If you’re going to be all sour about it, I’ll figure it out on my own.”

He went to stand, only to be pulled up short by Berry’s hand on his knee. Not grabbing, simply resting there. The gesture was small and somehow remorseful. Berry’s hand was warm through the worn fabric of Ancel’s trousers, so thin with age now that it was as though Berry’s hand was resting on bare skin.

“What do you need?” Berry repeated, soft this time.

“Clothes,” Ancel said, trying not to sound too pathetic. “I can’t afford new things, and there’s a banquet coming up. I have to look presentable.” He spoke quickly before Berry could get the wrong idea. “The steward said His Majesty ordered for me to be made comfortable. I’m sure that includes clothes, only I- I don’t know who to ask. Or how.”

“Clothes,” Berry said, his expression inscrutable. “Of course. I’ll see what I can do.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: in The Adventures of Charls it is revealed that Charls is from Varenne! And that apparently Varenne is an exporter of the finest silks and satins. This was a bit of a shock to me, since I've always assumed (on the basis of nothing more than its placement on the map) that Varenne was a bit provincial, with its main exports being things like lumber (because of the forest to the north), grain (because let's be real, the map makes Varenne look like it's got a lot of empty space), maybe quarry stone (with the mountains to the east). I figured the only "luxuries" in Varenne were the horses from Berenger's stables, and that the only reason he was so freaking rich was because of his own excellent land and money management skills. But no, apparently Varenne makes silk and satin @_@
> 
> I mean, the short story is set post canon, so perhaps Ancel's influence is at play here? But it seems unlikely, since how do you set up a thriving industry in luxury fabrics in just a few months?

* * *

Ancel was awakened by a knock on his door and went to open it, still in his plain sleep shirt. There were nearly half a dozen strangers and a veritable parade of fabrics outside. He could only stare as they pushed past him into his room, the leader a bright-eyed man with a wide smile.

“Ancel, I presume?” the leader asked. “Charls, renowned Veretian cloth merchant, at your service. My assistant, Guilliame, and of course our Lord’s tailor Anatole and our Lord’s retainer, the honorable Parsins.”

“Yes?” Ancel said weakly, distracted by the fabrics being brought inside. The merchant, Charls, introduced his other assistants, then went about arranging the bolts of cloth they’d brought in.

“The finest Varenne has to offer,” he said, beaming as he showed off his wares. “Silks and satins from home of course, and wouldn’t this be a striking color on you!” He showed off the most beautiful cut of emerald green silk Ancel had ever seen. “Ultrafine cotton and linen for underthings, and velvet and brocade. I’m sure Anatole is full of wonderful ideas.”

“Quite,” the tailor, Anatole said. He was a tall thin man, his face elegant and ageless. He seemed positively giddy. “Why, it’ll be a pleasure to work in something other than  _ brown  _ for once!” He chuckled, unrolling a bolt of silk. “You’ve a lovely complexion. And that  _ hair!  _ No wonder our Lord is so taken with you.”

“Sorry,” Ancel managed, dazed. “Our-  _ who?”  _ Did they mean the King?

“Guilliame, get his measurements,” Charls ordered. “And what sort of budget are we looking at for your new wardrobe?”

“I- I don’t-” Ancel stuttered.

“Whatever it is,” said the sour older man who Ancel vaguely remembered being introduced as Parsins, “send me the bill when you’re through. His Lordship has said to spare no expense.”

Anatole gasped, flushing with pleasure. “In that case- Guilliame, get the mother-of-pearl buttons. No- the filigree. And the cloth of gold, if you please. And the peacock brocade, the one from Patras.”

“Anatole, have mercy,” Parsins said, going pale.

“I think not,” Anatole said with a maniacal grin. “After all my years of service, surely I deserve to make something beautiful for once. And look at this lovely young peach-” he took Ancel by the shoulders and turned him so he was facing Parsins. “He deserves the best, no?”

“I trust you to take care of it,” Parsins said before sweeping out of the room with a grimace. 

“You’ll be needing feast clothes, yes?” Anatole asked, brushing his fingers through Ancel’s loose hair and marveling at the color.

“Yes,” Ancel said, still not quite sure this was really happening.

“Just the one set?” Anatole asked with a pout. “But there are so many feasts, and a beautiful flower like you should shine at them all, yes?”

“Oh, yes,” Ancel said, finally swept up in the excitement of the moment. He was getting new clothes, made just for him!

“Charls, show me the velvets,” Anatole demanded, turning businesslike in a moment.

Charls hurried to do what he was told with a wide smile, chattering as easily about fashion as import taxes. The day passed in a whirlwind of fittings and measurements and by the time it was over Ancel fell to bed, exhausted.

There were more fittings the following day, and then by some miracle the clothes were ready and delivered to his room in a large cedar chest. Ancel arranged them lovingly in his wardrobe, marveling at the small fortune in silk before him. There was a fine long coat too, slitted from hem to hip and made of brocade that shone in the sunlight. As Ancel was hanging it up he felt a lump in the pocket and pulled out a small box wrapped in a bit of parchment.

The parchment had a note written on it that Ancel couldn’t read. He set it aside to bother with later and instantly forgot it when he opened the box to reveal dangling emerald earrings, a perfect match to his necklace.

A gift from the King- it had to be.

But Ancel found himself thinking of Berry, instead. Had he picked them out, just like the necklace? There was only one way to find out, so Ancel gleefully put on the earrings before dressing in his riding clothes and heading down to the stables.

There was still some time before noon, but Berry was always early. Ancel would show off his new earrings and see what Berry had to say about them. See if he blushed, or smiled, or made a dry joke.

For once the stables were empty of all but the stable boys.

“Shall I have your horse saddled, m’lord?” a young man with sandy blond hair asked when he saw Ancel come in.

“My horse?” Ancel asked in confusion.

“Ruby,” the man said, jerking his head towards her stall.

“She’s not  _ mine,”  _ Ancel said. “She belongs to the King.”

The stable boy made an odd face, then shook his head as if to wipe the expression away. “As you say, m’lord. So you want her saddled or not?”

“No,” Ancel said after a moment. He’d wait for Berry to come and then saddle Ruby himself. If he did it wrong Berry would correct him, standing close and guiding his hands, murmuring instructions into his ear like another man might croon sweet nothings to a lover.

To pass the time, Ancel fed Ruby bits of apple and lumps of sugar, waiting as the day stretched into noon and past it. 

Berry never came.

Ancel tried not to feel too put out about it. Maybe Berry was just as busy preparing for the banquet as everyone else was. He still felt disgruntled as he trudged back to his room.

The pattern continued for the next few days, but Ancel busied himself with court gossip and entertainments. On the day of the banquet he readied himself with single minded determination. He bathed and steamed and waxed every inch of his body; he rubbed himself with perfumed oils to make his skin as soft as his silks and carefully painted his face.

He pinned up his hair in a mass of carefully pressed curls to reveal his elegant neck, leaving a few tendrils to frame his face, before getting dressed. The garment was a masterpiece- loose green silk that was so fine it was sheer in the right light. It flowed with Ancel’s every move, hugging and revealing each curve of his body. For all that it was oddly modest too, with a high collar that reached to his chin, and small pearl buttons that went in a straight line all the way down his back. The sleeves were full and long, slit up the sides to leave the creamy skin of his arms exposed.

It was an outfit completely unlike the skimpy wraps and body chains the other pets wore. It made Ancel stand out, made him look sensual and expensive, fit for a King.

The banquet itself was lovely, made lovelier still when the King’s gaze found Ancel in the crowd and he sent a servant to invite him to the head table. Ancel half expected to find Berry sitting beside him, but it was only Prince Laurent and a few ancient Council members.

“Show him the trick you showed me,” King Auguste said with a wide grin, handing over a pack of cards. “Laurent didn’t believe me when I told him.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Ancel demurred, flushing with pleasure at the attention. He snuck a glance into the hall to enjoy the black jealousy of the other pets glaring at his position of honor. He showed the King and the Prince a few card tricks before turning the conversation to something more interesting.

The King didn’t seem to mind Ancel’s flirtatious touches to his wrist or his arm, though neither did they entice him to ask Ancel to dance. Prince Laurent simply watched cooly, not saying much other than the occasional acerbic remark.

Eventually the night grew later and the more tame juggling and musical acts were replaced by pets showing off their particular skills. Prince Laurent, as usual, didn’t stay to watch. He made a pointed remark about the late hour and King Auguste stood to escort him back to his rooms.

Ancel knew neither of them would be back, so there was no sense in hanging around. He waited a few minutes before slipping out himself, making sure that he wasn’t being particularly discreet. There would be rumors about him taking his leave at the same time as the King. Rumors that would raise his value in the eyes of the court.

Despite how well the night had gone, once Ancel was back in his room he found himself feeling oddly unsettled. When he’d been in the servants quarters, the halls had always been busy with chatter and activity. There had been a shared bathing chamber too, where Ancel had bathed along with the serving boys and kitchen hands, the pig boys and the cooks assistants. They always had gossip to share or a story to tell. Even though it had been beneath Ancel’s station, he’d liked the companionable atmosphere.

Now he was alone.

It was silly that it should bother him, but that didn’t make it any easier to bear. Ancel felt acutely like there was something missing, and he left his rooms in search of it even before realizing what it was.

The hallways were dark, lit only by sporadically placed lamps. It was still early, the rest of the lamps wouldn’t be lit until the drunk Lords and Ladies returned to their rooms from the evening’s entertainments. 

Ancel walked until he reached a door that stood partially cracked, light spilling into the hall from the opening. From what he could tell, the room beyond was a salon, or perhaps a library. There was no sound beyond the faint rustling of paper and a quiet clink, like a glass touching down on a wooden table.

Ancel pushed open the door and stepped inside, oddly unsurprised to see Berry lounging on a sofa by a dark window, reading a heavy tome. He was down to his shirtsleeves, his laces loose at the neck in deference to the hour, with his customary ugly brown jacket thrown haphazardly over a nearby chair. There was a bottle of wine beside him and a small crystal glass in his hand. He set it down when Ancel walked in, looking up.

“Ancel,” he said, his expression unreadable.

“Hello,” Ancel said, walking closer. He’d been right, the room was a library of some sort. There was a polished wooden desk in one corner, the legs embellished with carvings of horses. The books arranged on the tall shelves looked expensive, bound in leather and silk with gold embossed spines.

“Are you lost?” Berry asked.

“No,” Ancel said. “Are you? I didn’t see you at the banquet. It’s still going on downstairs, if you wanted to go watch the pet performances.”

Berry wrinkled his nose. “I despise pet performances.”

“You liked mine,” Ancel countered, thinking of his fire dance for the Patran delegation. 

Berry was just a servant, but he looked oddly imposing in that moment as he reclined on the sofa- like a provincial Lord spending a quiet evening alone. The quietly authoritative look in his eyes only made the illusion more real. He seemed to belong in this beautiful space, what must have been the King’s own private study.

Ancel knew that at the moment, in his fine silk clothes and his jewelry, he looked like he belonged here too. Under the pretense of looking around, he angled his body between Berry and one of the lamps, knowing the light would reveal his silhouette in an enticing tease.

“I did,” Berry said, his eyes lingering on Ancel’s face before taking in the rest of him. His fingers tightened over his book.

Ancel smiled, propping his hand on his hip and striking a pose. “Well?” he asked, tilting his head so his new earrings glittered in the light. “How do you like my new clothes?”

“You look-” Berry’s voice sounded oddly choked, a fact he tried to cover by taking a sip of his drink. “You look very fine.”

“I know,” Ancel said, finally moving to perch on the sofa next to him, propping his arm on the back of it and reaching out to take Berry’s glass from his hand. He took a drink of the sweet wine, enjoying the warmth spreading through his body. He’d drunk sparingly at the banquet, needing to keep his wits about him. He didn’t mind letting down his guard now, alone with Berry in a little cocoon of quiet and peace.

“Thank you,” Ancel added. “How did you even manage to arrange clothes for me on such short notice?”

“It helps to know the right people,” Berry said with a wry twist to his mouth, taking his glass back and pointedly turning back to his book.

Ancel pouted, but of course Berry didn’t see. Ancel wasn’t sure what exactly he’d expected but this borderline dismissive treatment wasn’t it. He leaned forward so his shadow fell over the book. “It occurs to me you haven’t seen my new room.”

“No,” Berry said simply.

“Aren’t you curious?”

“I’m sure it’s lovely.”

“Come find out,” Ancel said, pulling the book from Berry’s grasp and closing it firmly. “I have a view of the gardens. You can bring your wine.” If anything Berry seemed annoyed rather than intrigued. Ancel bit his lip, searching desperately for what to say next. “I need your help, anyway.”

“Find a servant to help you,” Berry said, his eyebrows drawing down sternly.

“They’re all asleep by now,” Ancel lied. “Or at the banquet.  _ Please.” _

Berry closed his eyes with a quiet sigh and Ancel knew he’d won. He stood gleefully and grabbed the bottle of wine, walking over to the door and pausing to make sure Berry was following. The older man didn’t seem particularly excited to be leaving his book, but nevertheless he gathered up his jacket and stood before following Ancel through the halls.

Ancel opened the door to his own room and smiled as he watched Berry walk in. The room was lit by lamp light, tidy but for the paints arranged on the dressing table. Ancel set the bottle of wine down before sitting at his dressing table to unpin his hair, watching surreptitiously in the mirror as Berry looked around.

Berry shifted restlessly and then froze, staring at the bowl of fruit that was replenished daily by the servants.

“What’s this?” he asked.

Ancel turned to see he was holding a piece of parchment- the note that had come with the earrings.

Ancel pulled more pins from his hair and dropped them carefully into a box. “It’s a note from the King.”

“The King,” Berry repeated, something odd in his voice. “Have you read it?”

Ancel rolled his eyes, a gesture that was no doubt lost on his guest. “I can’t read.”

“Ah,” Berry breathed out.

Finished with the pins, Ancel brushed out his hair until it shone. “I’m curious. Is it written in his own hand?”

“No,” Berry said. “It’s written in mine.”

Ancel couldn’t help laughing. Of course the King didn’t write his own messages, he’d have his secretary do it for him.

Finished with his hair, Ancel stood and walked over to where Berry was still staring at the note with a faraway look in his eyes.

“What does it say?” Ancel asked.

Berry startled and turned to look at him. “Nothing of consequence,” he said abruptly, crumpling the note in his hand.

“Hey!” Ancel protested, snatching it away and trying to smooth it out over the table. He couldn’t help admiring the neat script, the carefully slanted letters. There were an awful lot of them for a note that supposedly said nothing of consequence.

“What does it matter if you can’t read it anyway?” Berry asked, watching Ancel’s efforts to neatly fold the note and set it back on the table.

“It’s mine,” Ancel announced. “It matters to me.” Maybe it was a note expressing Berry’s deep passion for him, and that was why he’d been so cold and distant lately, thinking he’d been spurned. Surely it wouldn’t be too difficult for Ancel to find someone to read it to him and find out for sure.

Berry cleared his throat and awkwardly looked away. “What did you need help with?”

Ancel grinned and turned around, pulling his hair over his shoulder to reveal the neat line of pearl buttons trailing down his back. “Undressing.”

That wasn’t strictly true- Ancel had gotten into the clothes easily enough on his own. Berry didn’t need to know that.

There was a long pause during which Ancel started doubting himself. Berry wanted him, didn’t he?

“Shall I wake a servant after all?” Ancel asked, pitching his voice low. If he’d been with a master he might have turned to look seductively over his shoulder, but now he found himself uncharacteristically afraid of what he might see. What if he was wrong and Berry  _ didn’t  _ want him? What if he was bored, or annoyed, or eager to leave?

“No,” Berry said at last, and Ancel closed his eyes as he felt the first brush of warm calloused fingers against the back of his neck. There was a moment that felt like a caress as Berry moved a few loose strands of hair away from the buttons, his hands warm through the thin silk.

The first button came open, making Ancel shiver as cool air hit previously covered skin. Berry continued methodically, not rushing but not lingering either. Every so often his fingertips brushed Ancel’s back and he had to hold back a gasp, his heart pounding. He wasn’t sure why something so simple was making him feel so strange.

The buttons continued to the hem of the garment but Berry stopped at Ancel’s lower back, pausing for a long moment before breathing out sharply and stepping away. Ancel turned to face him, gratified to see he was blushing.

“I should go,” Berry said.

“I suppose you could,” Ancel answered. With a practiced motion he shrugged to let the silk slip from his shoulders and pool on the floor. He wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

Berry’s breath caught, his eyes slipping lower. Ancel took a step closer.

“What are you doing?” Berry whispered.

“Nothing,” Ancel whispered back, letting his fingertips rest on Berry’s waist and tilting his face up so their lips were barely a hairbreadth apart. Even as he did it, he knew it was a mistake. If anyone found out about this, that Ancel had let someone- a servant!- fuck him without a contract, his value would plummet and he’d be ruined.

At the moment it was so difficult to care.

Berry swayed towards him and their lips came together, an illicit shock running through Ancel’s body at the contact. He gasped and leaned closer, fisting both hands in Berry’s shirt as Berry raised his hands to cradle Ancel’s face. Too shy to touch any bare skin, or perhaps he was just as unsure that this was really happening as Ancel was.

Ancel pressed his nude body to Berry’s clothed one, winding his arms around Berry’s neck and deepening the kiss. Berry kissed back just as ardently, and finally moved to smooth his palms down Ancel’s back, hesitating for a moment before cupping Ancel’s ass, pulling him closer.

Ancel moaned, surprising even himself, and Berry pulled away, panting. He was flushed already, just from kissing. His eyes were dark, pupils blown with desire.

“I thought you had your sights set on the King,” he said.

“I do,” Ancel said. “But the King is just business.”

“And what am I?”

“I don’t know,” Ancel said, more honestly than he’d meant to. “But I know I want you. Do you want me?”

“Yes,” Berry said, and let Ancel take him to bed.


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

Ancel opened his eyes to a dark room, momentarily confused as he reached out and found the other side of the bed empty. A rustle of cloth prompted him to turn and prop himself up on his elbows, watching as Berry slipped on his shirt.

“Sorry,” Berry said, noticing Ancel watching. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Mm,” Ancel hummed, reaching for him expectantly. Berry came closer and sat on the edge of the bed as he started closing the laces at his neck. “Well, I’m awake now. Come back to bed.” His voice came out petulant. Under normal circumstances he might have been embarrassed to sound so needy, but a week into their little tryst he found himself not caring so much.

Berry paused and leaned in to press a soft kiss to Ancel’s lips- an apology.

“It’s nearly dawn,” Berry said.

Ancel pouted even though he knew Berry was right. The servants would be going about their duties soon and he couldn’t be caught here. It was gratifying that he understood without having it spelled out for him, but Ancel was shocked at his own level of disappointment at being robbed of waking up together. He’d never wanted to actually _sleep_ with a client before, but Berry wasn’t a client. Sleeping curled up together and waking with Berry’s arms around him was shockingly pleasant.

He watched as Berry finished with the neck of his shirt and moved to awkwardly lace up his sleeve one handed. 

“You’re only making it worse,” Ancel observed mildly.

“You could help.”

“Help you put your clothes on?” Ancel raised an eyebrow. “When I’m trying to entice you to take them _off?_ I don’t think so.”

Berry smiled, not looking at him. If it was lighter in the room, Ancel was sure he would have seen Berry blushing.

“Oh stop,” Ancel said at last, tugging Berry’s arm into his lap. He was practiced at helping his masters dress and undress- he had the laces done in a less than a minute before moving on to Berry’s other arm.

“Thank you,” Berry said and Ancel dragged him into a longer kiss, one that involved tongue and was more promise than apology.

“I’ll see you in the stables at noon?” Ancel asked once Berry rose and put on his terrible brown jacket.

“I can’t,” Berry said with a shake of his head. “I’m having luncheon with Auguste. But this afternoon? We could go for a longer ride than usual, go to the pond in the royal forest.” He smiled, his eyes glittering in the slowly lightening room. “If it’s warm we could go swimming.”

“Oh, alright,” Ancel said, appeased for the moment. He plopped back into bed with a put-upon sigh and watched Berry’s ass as he left the room.

Once he was alone, his thoughts turned inevitably to what happened the previous night- Berry sucking him for what felt like hours before fingering him open. By the time Berry finally fucked him Ancel had been trembling, struggling to stifle his cries into the pillow so they wouldn’t be overheard. 

Ancel blushed as he thought of how tenderly Berry had cleaned him up after with a damp cloth, and held him while they talked about nonsense things late into the night.

Ancel had never had _an affair_ before, had never even imagined it in anything but the vaguest terms. It was so much better than anything he could have thought. He'd never known that sex could feel so good- could be so _fun._

Maybe once he finally got the King’s contract, once it was all over and done with and he was filthy rich and the most famous pet at court… Maybe then he could take his fortune and Berry with him, and head off to a nice seaside villa, or a fashionable place in the city. Somewhere far from court where they could be together without any contracts or politics or duties getting in the way.

But first Ancel would have to seduce King Auguste.

The thought was a sobering one, and Ancel rose even though first light was only just starting to break through the curtains. There was no use daydreaming when there was work to be done.

After getting dressed he took breakfast in the kitchens to catch up on the servant’s gossip. There were a few interesting tidbits about who was fucking who and which Lords and Ladies had a late night and would wake with a wicked hangover, but nothing of consequence.

Once he’d eaten, he made his way to the pleasure gardens, strolling down well tended paths until he reached a large gazebo strewn with thick rugs and cushions. It was occupied by half a dozen pets draped languidly over the furniture, passing around a long-stemmed chalis pipe. One of the pets, a slim blonde with flowers braided into his long hair, frowned as he exhaled a thick stream of sweet smoke.

“Ancel,” he said, his tone snide. “I imagined you’d be too busy scrambling for a contract to join us.” A few of the others tittered.

Ancel made a point of smirking as he sat down. He tossed his hair back from his shoulder, tilting his head so his emerald earrings caught the light.

“Lucien,” Ancel greeted the pet. He was Lord Estienne’s latest, and had a vicious streak underneath his simpering exterior. “How kind of you to be concerned, but I assure you I always have time for friends.”

Lucien’s frown deepened and he passed the pipe to one of the others. “You seem awfully confident for someone who’s been without a contract for… what is it now? Two months? Three?”

Ancel continued smiling placidly as the pipe finally reached him, then took a slow drag instead of answering. He kept the smoke in his mouth rather than inhaling deeply into his lungs, conscious of keeping his head.

He exhaled the smoke as the other pets gossiped around him, a younger man with dark curls leaning close to take the pipe next.

“Shouldn’t you be worried about your own contract, Lucien?” the dark haired pet asked, arching his brow. “They say Lord Etienne grows bored so quickly.” Ancel only knew him by reputation- his name was Ollie, and he was between contracts too though he had promising prospects. Not as promising as Ancel’s, of course, but then who could compete with the King?

Lucien scoffed while Ollie threw Ancel a conspiratory glance.

“I’m sure you’ve got your next contract lined up already,” Ollie continued, taking Ancel’s arm as though they were the best of friends. “Someone like you… It’s only a matter of time. Someone like _me,_ on the other hand…” he sighed dramatically. “Let’s just say I could use all help I can get.”

Some of the other pets murmured pleasantries that didn’t seem particularly sincere. Of course- they all had contracts, so why should they care about the difficulties of someone who didn’t.

“What sort of help?” Ancel asked. It didn’t take a genius to see Ollie was angling for a favor.

“Well,” Ollie said, pleased that Ancel had taken the bait. “I heard from one of the serving girls, who heard from a guard, who’s fucking one of the Prince’s men, that there’s to be a Vaskian delegation coming soon.”

“Oh please,” Lucien said, rolling his eyes. “A rumor of a rumor-”

“It’s true,” one of the other pets piped up. “I overheard Talik and Lady Vannes talking about it. The delegation is bringing a crate of Vaskian sweets, and three casks of hakesh.”

“So there’ll be a banquet,” Ancel said, guessing where this was going now.

“Yes,” Ollie said, squeezing Ancel’s arm. “And a pet performance. A whole parade of them. It’s the perfect time to catch a master’s eye, but you know the Vaskians-” he made a point of shuddering. “They’ll have their own _pets_ they’ll want to send into the ring, and I’m not too keen on being snapped in half.”

“But…?” Ancel prompted.

“But!” Ollie repeated, beaming. “We could perform together, couldn’t we? We could really put on a show, you and I. I’d even let you fuck me.”

“Oh, would you,” Ancel said with a laugh. “So I’d be helping you shine?”

“I never took you for a _traditionalist,”_ Ollie pouted. “There would be enough spotlight for both of us.”

“I’m sure,” Ancel said. “But I don’t think that would work for me.” He knew that King Auguste didn’t particularly enjoy the pet performances. Berry didn’t either for that matter, though his preferences were irrelevant. Still, Ancel had no need to show himself off, not like _that._ Not fucking someone, when King Auguste would clearly prefer doing the fucking himself. Ancel would be better off with his current strategy, slow as it was. He felt right on the brink of success.

“Well, don’t make up your mind just yet,” Ollie said. “Consider it, at least.”

Ancel didn’t need to consider it, but an outright refusal would be rude and he’d already made enough enemies at court. He nodded instead, saved from answering by the pipe coming around again.

Eventually Lucien had to go attend his master, which meant the remaining pets grew much more pleasant to be around. They talked about the supposed Vaskian delegation, and the banquet, and whose contracts were almost up.

When it grew later Ancel took his leave too, heading back to his room to get changed. A few days ago he’d received another package from Anatole- bespoke riding boots and high waisted trousers with calfskin panelling. There was a hunting jacket too, but Ancel put on one of his plain white shirts instead, leaving it unlaced at the neck before pulling his hair back into a simple braid. It would be suspicious to get all dressed up just for riding lessons. The fact that Berry’s tastes ran towards plainly dressed country lads was just a bonus.

Berry was waiting in the stables as usual. And he’d already saddled Ruby.

“Impatient, are we,” Ancel murmured into his ear as he walked past to climb into the saddle.

“Ready to get away from the palace for a bit,” Berry answered, doing the same.

Ancel followed his lead to the royal forest, then down a narrow ill-used path. They took an easy pace, the woods alive around them with bird calls, the sun filtering gently through the leaves above them. Finally they reached a meadow on the bank of a pond, the water so clear Ancel could see straight to the colorful pebbles lining the bottom.

Ancel watched openly as Berry dismounted and started to undress, much more comfortable opening his laces than he had been trying to close them that morning. By now Ancel knew exactly how warm and smooth his skin was, how his firm muscled arms felt wrapped around Ancel’s waist. Seeing him was another matter- they usually fucked in the dark or by the light of a single lamp.

Berry seemed to practically glow under the sun, so much more handsome out of his ugly clothes than in them.

He threw a smile over his shoulder before walking into the water, leaving Ancel sputtering in indignation.

“You meant _actual_ swimming?” Ancel demanded, climbing off Ruby and leaving her to graze as he walked to the edge of the pond, watching mournfully as Berry’s body disappeared from view under the water.

“What did you think I meant?” Berry asked, turning around to face him even as he kept walking backwards. The water rose above his hips, then to his chest. 

Ancel frowned. “Sex, obviously.”

“As if you’d let me touch you smelling of horse,” Berry teased.

“Well,” Ancel muttered. He _had_ been considering it. Berry didn’t notice his trepidation, ducking his head under the water briefly before surfacing and shaking himself off like a dog. It shouldn’t have been so painfully endearing.

“What are you waiting for?”

“I can’t swim,” Ancel admitted finally, biting his lip.

Berry laughed, a pleasantly rich sound that wasn’t mocking in the least. “It’s not deep. Even if it was- I wouldn’t let you drown.”

“Oh fine,” Ancel muttered, taking off his own clothes. Whatever else he was, he wasn’t a coward.

He joined Berry in the pond, shivering at the cool water. He couldn’t help feeling self conscious, wondering if he looked too pale, if his goosebumps were unsightly. Berry seemed as besotted as always, drinking in the sight of him as Ancel cautiously picked his way over smooth pebbles.

Once he was close enough Berry took hold of his hand and pulled Ancel into his arms and finally they were kissing. Ancel didn’t even mind when Berry slid a damp hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, mussing his braid. It would all have to be redone anyway before dinner, and that seemed so far away.

In the end they really didn’t get to very much swimming, kissing instead with Berry holding Ancel up by the waist until he grew impatient and demanded they return to land. They fucked on the soft grass, bathed in sunshine, and Ancel didn’t have to try and be quiet out in the forest where only the birds and the horses might hear them.

They rinsed off in the pond again afterwards, and Berry set out a soft blanket while Ancel pulled his shirt back on, wary of singing his fair skin even though they found a cool shaded spot.

“I hear there’s a Vaskian delegation coming,” Ancel said later, half-way to dozing on Berry’s chest while Berry carefully unwound his damp hair loose from his braid.

“Yes,” Berry said. “They’re coming to finalize a treaty. Land rights, borders, trade tariffs. That sort of thing.”

“And there’s to be a banquet,” Ancel added.

“And a hunt,” Berry said. “We were discussing the preparations today. According to Vaskian custom, bringing down a white stag is considered an auspicious omen. Auguste is having one imported from a breeder in Patras, to be released at dawn. The logistics are a nightmare.”

“A hunt,” Ancel said, perking up. That was certainly one way of getting noticed. “You don’t suppose you could get me invited, could you?”

“Why would you want to go on a hunt?”

Ancel propped himself up on his arm so he could look down into Berry’s puzzled eyes. “Why not?” he asked lightly. He didn’t want to bring up his plans for the King and risk ruining their lovely afternoon. “Don’t you think I’m a good enough rider by now?”

“Of course you are,” Berry said, as though it were obvious. Ancel still felt his cheeks heating with pleasure at the compliment. “But it’ll be boring. There won’t be any other pets there. Talik, perhaps. And only if her and Vannes can drag themselves out of bed in time.”

“You’ll be there,” Ancel said.

“Yes,” Berry said, his cheeks heating up too now. “Well. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Ancel said. He glanced up at the sky to try and see how much time they had left before they had to be getting back. Not much, but hopefully it would be enough. He leaned down to nip at Berry’s bottom lip before moving to straddle him, dragging his hands down Berry’s bare chest.

“Now, rouse yourself,” Ancel demanded with a smirk. “If we’re quick there’s time enough for you to fuck me again before dinner.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that this is a Captive Prince fanfiction, and therefore includes Captive Prince-typical content @_@
> 
> ...just saying. 
> 
> If you want a more specific (aka spoilery) heads up on what's about to go down, check the end notes

* * *

The palace at Arles was bustling in preparation for the Vaskian delegation. Ancel took every opportunity he could to snatch Berry away for a few stolen moments, even risking a particularly rushed encounter in a hidden corner of the coupling gardens.

If everything went as he hoped, he’d have the King’s contract soon and things with Berry would have to come to an end. Ancel tried not to think of that too much or risk falling into a pathetically maudlin state. But when he was alone with Berry at night he couldn’t help kissing him a little harder, holding him a little closer.

The day of the hunt came sooner than it had any right to. Ancel felt uncharacteristically sluggish as he got dressed in his new hunting clothes in silence, Berry having slipped away late the previous night to attend to his own duties.

Ancel saddled Ruby himself, the stable boys too busy with the nearly two dozen Lords and Ladies who were attending the King’s hunt. Once he was ready he rode out to the edge of the royal forest where the hunters were gathered.

Berry was sitting atop his dappled gray stallion, not the mare he took out on riding lessons. He cut a rather handsome figure in dark hunting leathers, blue rather than brown for once. He was talking to the King, mounted on a white stallion beside him, but broke off when he saw Ancel. 

King Auguste noticed Berry’s moment of distraction and paused, smiling when he caught Ancel's eye. He motioned with his hand and Ancel smiled as he guided Ruby closer.

There was a woman beside the King, a Vaskian with chestnut curls and wide shoulders. She was pretty enough, for a Vaskian. Ancel made sure to smile pleasantly at her before turning his full attention back to King Auguste.

“Your Majesty,” he said, ducking his head respectfully. “It’s a wonderful day for a hunt.”

“It is,” the King agreed readily. “I’m glad you could join us, Ancel.”

The woman said something in Vaskian and King Auguste laughed before answering her. Ancel blinked as he watched. They seemed awfully familiar with each other and that was just- strange. And inappropriate. He snuck a glance at Berry, who was acting as if this was perfectly normal, and that was even stranger.

“I’m being rude,” King Auguste said. “I should introduce you. Ancel- this is her Highness Imperial Princess Kashel. My fiance.”

Ancel felt his smile become a fixed mask over his face. He couldn’t help hearing an echo of that word- _fiance-_ like a door suddenly slamming shut. 

It didn’t seem like he was expected to respond as the King turned to the woman- to his _fiance-_ and said something in Vaskian. That was good- Ancel wasn’t sure he was capable of mustering words at the moment.

_Fiance._

“Excuse me,” Ancel managed faintly, tugging on Ruby’s reins. “I’m suddenly feeling somewhat unwell.”

He spurred Ruby into a trot, still reeling from the news.

King Auguste had a fiance.

He certainly wasn’t taking a pet _now._ And just like that- all of Ancel’s hopes and dreams crumbled into dust around him. It was over.

Somehow he made it back to the stables and brought Ruby into her stall. He unsaddled her with numb trembling fingers, moving on muscle memory alone as he stared off into the distance.

“Ancel!” someone said, tugging on his arm.

Ancel turned and blinked when he saw Berry standing beside him, looking concerned.

“Ancel,” Berry said, as though far from the first time. “Are you alright? What’s the matter?”

“What’s… the matter?” Ancel echoed, incredulous. 

He scowled, shaking Berry’s arm off and taking a step back. His heart was pounding with sudden fury, his head spinning. He felt his cheeks heating up and knew that his face looked horrible- splotchy and red and probably sweaty too. Disgusting.

“Why didn’t you tell me he had a fiance?” Ancel demanded. There was no way Berry hadn’t known. He knew _everything._ And he hadn’t told Ancel. He’d let him go running around making a fool of himself, wasting his time. Why? So he could laugh about what an idiot Ancel was? So he could keep Ancel to himself?

“I didn’t know,” Berry said, eyes wide and expression guileless.

Ancel scoffed and turned away to finish unsaddling Ruby.

“I didn’t,” Berry insisted. “It was added to the negotiations last minute and it wasn’t finalized, not until this morning. They won’t announce it officially until tonight.”

“The banquet,” Ancel muttered, closing his eyes for a moment as hope sparked in the darkness.

“Ancel,” Berry said. “What’s the matter? I don’t understand. Please-”

“Of course you don’t,” Ancel said, hauling the saddle off Ruby’s back without a care for his clothes. He pulled off the horse blanket too and let it drop in a heap outside the stall. Let the stable boys deal with the rest, he didn’t have time.

When he tried to leave Berry grabbed him once more, tugging him around to face him. “Ancel- what’s going on?”

“He won’t buy me now,” Ancel spit out, annoyed at the delay. “No one else will, either. No one good, not after I turned down so many prospects while waiting for the King!”

“I don’t understand,” Berry said.

“Are you _stupid?”_ Ancel cried out, twisting out of his grasp. “I can’t stay at court without a contract! I’ll have to go back to living in the gutter if I- if I can’t-” to his horror he felt tears rising to his eyes and blinked them furiously away.

“Maybe I could-” Berry started, still looking confused and lost.

“I don’t have _time_ for this,” Ancel forced out, turning to leave the stables.

“Ancel-” Berry called after him.

“Leave me alone!” Ancel yelled before picking up the pace. He pressed a hand to his mouth to stifle a sob. He couldn’t cry now. He’d only get even redder and splotchier, and he needed to look his best.

On the way back to his rooms he grabbed a servant and sent them off with a message to Ollie- it looked like they’d be performing together after all.

Ancel tried not to think about it- to not think about _anything-_ as he bathed and got ready. He didn’t wear the clothing that Berry had arranged for him. He didn’t wear the emeralds either. He dressed in skimpy silks and gold body chains, like most of the Lords preferred. He left his hair loose and flowing and painted his face and body with gold dust in swirling designs. Once he finished he could hardly recognize himself in the mirror.

He’d grown used to styling himself in the more natural manner that he thought the King preferred (that he knew Berry preferred) and now he felt cold and exposed, his skin breaking out in unseemly goose pimples.

It didn’t matter- he’d be hot and sweaty with exertion soon enough.

The banquet was in full swing when Ancel made his way to the main hall through servants passages and back corridors. The entertainments had started, as usual, with juggling and acrobatics, music. But it would be time for the pet performances soon.

Ancel made his way to an antechamber where the pets waited in pairs and small groups. Ollie grinned and waved at him from a chaise in a quiet corner and Ancel walked closer.

“Ancel,” Ollie said, his eyes sparkling with joy and mischief. “I’m so glad you changed your mind.”

“Yes,” Ancel managed.

Ollie frowned before looking around and leaning closer. “I know you haven’t done too many of these, but it’ll be fine. We’ll both get fantastic contracts out of it, you’ll see.”

Ancel frowned at the reassurance. He’d thought he was doing a good job of hiding how upset he was, but clearly not. “I’m fine,” he said.

“Sure,” Ollie said, still smiling easily as he set his hand on Ancel’s knee. “I was thinking I’d get on my knees and suck you first. And then you can fuck me- on my back, so they can see my face. We don’t have to fake a struggle, that way we won’t muss our clothes or hair. Unless you want to, of course? I’m good at begging. Some Lords like that.”

“Whatever you like,” Ancel said, trying for a smile of his own.

Ollie squeezed his knee and explained the rest of his plans. Ancel forced himself to listen, nodding at appropriate intervals. It was true that he hadn’t performed too often in the ring. There was the time in Lord Rouart’s villa, followed by two more parties before they came to court. But then his contract had been bought by Lord Droet who grew jealous whenever Ancel so much as smiled at anyone else, so pet performances had been out of the question.

Still, how hard could it be? It was just fucking, and Ancel was good at that. The audience didn’t change anything.

Before he knew it, Ollie was taking his hand and pulling him up to stand. It was their turn.

Ancel’s stomach sank unpleasantly. If he’d had anything to eat that day he might have been sick. If this didn’t work he’d be ruined. And even if it did work- everything he’d liked about his life for the past few weeks would be gone. His lovely room that he didn’t have to share with anyone, his freedom.

Berry.

Ancel shook his head to clear it and threw a reassuring smile to Ollie, who was looking at him nervously. 

“Let’s go put on a show,” Ancel said with a wink.

Ollie smiled back and that was it- they walked out into the ring.

Ancel had never performed in Arles, but he’d seen others do it plenty of times so the room was familiar. The audience was already riled up- they’d been feasting and drinking since the early afternoon. Someone chuckled and yelled out a lewd suggestion. Ollie smirked and raised his chin proudly. Ancel did the same.

Ollie seemed perfectly comfortable as he stalked around Ancel in a circle, drawing out the moment as the audience grew impatient and started yelling out demands. Finally he stopped and dropped to his knees, moving Ancel’s silks aside to press kisses down the length of his cock.

For a horrifying moment Ancel thought he wouldn’t be able to get hard. But then Ollie took him in his mouth and Ancel closed his eyes, forcing all his thoughts aside. It felt good to have Ollie’s mouth on him. Not as as good as when Berry-

Ancel wasn’t thinking about that. 

He sank his hand into Ollie’s hair and gave it a sharp tug. Ollie gasped performatively to the chuckles of the watching Lords and Ladies.

“Fuck him, Red!” someone cried out with clear desire in his voice. That made it easier somehow. Ancel grinned and thrust his now-hard cock into Ollie’s mouth.

They put on a good show. By the time Ancel had Ollie on his back, the crowd was practically roaring in approval. Ancel spread Ollie’s legs wider and made a show of fucking him, crying out with how good it was while Ollie writhed underneath him. For all his seemingly abandoned movements, his hair and jewelry stayed perfectly in place.

Ollie made a particularly wanton sound that sounded fake to Ancel but made the crowd go wild. Ancel laughed, struck by the oddity of the whole thing. He felt good- more from the power of having everyone’s attention on him, their approval, than any sensation of fucking Ollie. Though he had no complaints about that either.

He pulled back and tossed his hair so it would catch the candlelight dramatically. He angled himself just right and sped up the pace so Ollie could come untouched. There were pleased gasps and murmurs at the sight- Ollie’s contract was assured.

Ancel smirked at the crowd as he pulled out and took his own cock in hand, stroking it lazily while still kneeling between Ollie’s spread thighs.

The crowd was full of Lords and Ladies and unfamiliar Vaskian officials. At the head of the room sat King Auguste, making eyes at his fiance rather than deigning to watch the proceedings. And on his other side sat Berry.

Their eyes locked and suddenly Ancel couldn’t look away. He felt sick again. Berry looked pale, his lips pinched and his eyes dark. He looked _furious._

Of course he’d be here, watching this. Of course he was going to hate Ancel for it.

 _“Please,”_ Ollie moaned loudly, arching his back. Ancel turned to look at him instead, grateful for the distraction. Ollie was watching him with furrowed brows, concerned, and Ancel leaned down to kiss him.

He’d lost his erection but thankfully no one would be able to tell with the way they were curled into each other. He pretended to finish with a moan, his face buried in Ollie’s sweaty neck. Ollie patted the back of his head gently. There were already attendants coming forward with robes for the two of them so Ancel forced himself to stand and gave Ollie a helping hand.

They bowed to wild applause before being bundled up and hurried away, making room for the next performance.

“That went well,” Ancel said once they were alone in a small bathing chamber attached to the ring.

“I thought so,” Ollie said brightly, washing himself with a damp cloth. “Are you alright? At the end there you seemed…”

“Of course I’m alright,” Ancel said airly. “After that performance? There’ll be a bidding war for the both of us. We’ll have the best contracts at court.”

Ollie giggled, leaning in conspiratorially. “I _know,”_ he said. “Lucien will be _so_ jealous.”

“Lucien can go kick rocks,” Ancel retorted, trying to shake off the chill that had settled over him. 

He was fine. Everything would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning- Ancel, being a pet, participates in a pet performance that he's not super jazzed about, though overall I personally would describe it as fully consensual, at least as consensual as possible given the circumstances.
> 
> Sorry y'all, but it was time for The Big Misunderstanding. Or at least as much of one as possible, given this whole fic is a Big Misunderstanding @_@


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

The wait seemed to take ages, though Ancel knew it must have been barely an hour. A servant came for Ollie first, announcing he’d been bought by a minor Lord Ancel only knew by reputation. Ollie seemed happy enough, beaming as he made his way out. And then Ancel was alone, drumming his fingers against the side of the chaise as he waited restlessly.

It was only a few more minutes until the palace steward came in and Ancel jerked to his feet.

“Congratulations,” the steward said.

“Someone bought my contract?” Ancel asked, as nervous as he was hopeful. “How much?”

The steward said a number that left Ancel wide-eyed. It was more money than he’d ever dreamed of for a year’s contract. It was more money than he’d heard of any pet getting before.

“Who?” he managed, still reeling.

“Lord Berenger,” the steward said.

Ancel didn’t know the name, which was a shock. He’d have thought by now he knew everyone who had that sort of money to throw around. “Is he new at court?”

The steward wrinkled his nose. “No. He’s the Councilman from Varenne.”

A Councilman. Ancel tried not to let his disappointment show. He knew three of the five who were regularly at court. All three were ancient and disgusting. The fourth was on his deathbed at his manor in Marches, where the fresh sea air was supposedly good for his constitution. The fifth, this _Lord Berenger,_ was likely in a similarly frail condition ensconced in his rooms in the palace, away from any gust of wind that might topple him over. He’d probably dragged his dusty bones to the pet performance in support of the King’s marriage. Ancel would have to be extra careful with him, or else he’d break a hip and die before Ancel could get the full value of his contract fulfilled.

“Oh,” was all Ancel said.

“He’s invited you to his rooms,” the steward said.

“Oh,” Ancel repeated, though that time it came out as a beleaguered sigh.

He managed to rally a bit as he followed the steward through the halls, taking a familiar route to the royal wing. Of course Lord Berenger would have rooms there- he was an important Councilman, wasn’t he. And he was rich. Ancel tried to tell himself this wouldn’t be all bad. 

And anyway, a year was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Once this contract was over Ancel would be filthy rich and could do whatever he wanted. He could rekindle things with Berry, assuming the man ever spoke to him again.

Ancel swallowed around the knot in his throat and forced himself to think of gold and jewels and beautiful clothes. He was getting exactly what he wanted.

The steward stopped in front of an ornate set of doors, only a short distance away from the study where Ancel had found Berry on that first night they’d spent together. Because of course everything had to remind Ancel of Berry now.

The steward waited patiently as Ancel steeled himself to step inside.

The entrance hall was lovely, of course. Lushly decorated, though more restrained than most of the palace. Wealth was on conspicuous display everywhere he looked, beautiful decorations set out on shelves and end tables. Ancel was going to be one of them, just another pretty thing on an old man’s arm so everyone would see how rich and powerful he was.

Ancel paused in front of a mirror to fix his hair and pinch some color into his cheeks so he didn’t look so petrified before moving into the next room. It was a study, large and airy. One wall was entirely glass, looking out onto the gardens. There was an imposing writing desk facing it, covered in books and papers arranged into neat piles.

And standing in front of the desk was Berry.

Ancel’s breath caught, his heart fluttering in his chest. He didn’t know what he was feeling. Relief at seeing Berry? Dread at what he might say? Was he angry about Ancel’s outburst in the stables, the performance in the ring?

Berry didn’t look angry as he watched Ancel with dark eyes. He was wearing feast clothes befitting a noble, dark blue with accents of gold embroidery at the cuffs and hems. He looked unfairly handsome except for how pale his face was, how stiff his posture was, like he was nervous.

As he should have been- sneaking into a Councilman’s rooms like this. Or maybe he’d bribed the steward to take Ancel somewhere else, and these weren’t Lord Berenger’s rooms at all.

Ancel let his seductive smile fade and his posture sag, bringing his hands up to scrub at his face. He suddenly felt exhausted. Of course Berry couldn’t let things go. He couldn’t let this be easy.

“What did you do?” Ancel asked. He should have turned around and left but he felt powerless as he walked towards Berry instead, needing to be close to him. Needing just a small sign that Berry had forgiven him, that he understood. That he still wanted him.

Ancel stopped a few paces away, close enough to see that Berry looked exhausted too.

“I’m sorry,” Berry said. “I know I shouldn’t have. But I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing you with someone else.”

Ancel had to hold back a smile at that. Of course he couldn’t, the lovesick fool. So what was his plan? To steal Ancel away? To continue their affair behind Lord Berenger’s back? It would ruin the both of them.

“That’s not your decision to make,” Ancel said gently.

“I know,” Berry said, looking down. “But I- I don’t expect things to go on as they were before. You never have to touch me again if you don’t want to. I understand you’re angry with me.”

Ancel sighed and gave in to the desire to move closer, pressing his forehead to Berry’s shoulder and closing his eyes.

“I’m not angry,” he whispered. “I’m worried. This is dangerous, for both of us. I can’t cheat on my contract. But maybe after… if you wait for me… maybe we can be together again then.”

Ancel felt Berry tense before he raised his hands to cradle Ancel’s face, tilting his head back gently to look at him.

“Ancel,” he said softly. “What are you talking about?”

Ancel opened his mouth only to pause and close it again. Berry’s right hand was pressed to his cheek. He was wearing a ring on his middle finger. Except Berry didn’t wear rings- or any jewelry for that matter. Ancel frowned and took Berry’s hand, moving it away to take a better look.

The ring was heavy and made of gold. It bore a crest of a horse rearing up on its back legs. It was a signet ring, like a Lord would wear.

“I've never seen you wear this before,” Ancel said accusingly.

“No,” Berry said. “It was my father’s. I only wear it on important occasions. And to Council, of course.”

“Oh,” Ancel said faintly. “To Council. Of course.”

An arrangement of odd little moments suddenly fell into place. The clothes from Varenne, the earrings, the dozens of strange things that so many people had said. The way Berry had wrinkled his nose when he’d tried the cooking wine. And the horses. The King’s horses, the horses decorating the study that was only a few doors down, close enough to be connected to these quarters. The horse on the signet ring.

Varenne was known for its exports of fine silks and satins. And horses.

Ancel blinked. “These are your rooms.”

“Yes,” Berry said, clearly confused.

“Lord Berenger’s rooms,” Ancel clarified. 

“Yes.”

“You’re Lord Berenger,” Ancel said in disbelief. “The Councilman from Varenne. You bought my contract.”

“You said you wanted to stay at court,” Berry said. Lord Berenger said. Ancel thought he might faint.

“Fuck,” Ancel said. _“You’re_ Lord Berenger.”

“Yes,” Berry said, frowning. “I- did you not… Who did you think I was?”

Ancel snorted out a laugh and pressed a hand to his mouth in mortification. This was too much. He really should have known that a servant wouldn’t get the privilege of spending quite so much time with the King. Certainly a servant wouldn’t be so familiar, or quite so at ease around him. 

But the _jackets._ How could any self respecting nobleman wear the jackets Berry wore? And go around saddling his own horse, and hanging around with some no-name pet just to give him riding lessons?

“I’d rather not say,” Ancel managed, his voice coming out strangled.

“You… didn’t know who I was?” Berry asked, something like wonder in his voice. “And you still wanted to be with me?” He was blushing.

 _“Yes,_ I still wanted-” Ancel broke off to laugh again as another thought occurred to him. _“You_ bought my contract. You did. So we can be together.”

“If you wanted that,” Berry said carefully. “We don’t have to. You can do as you like. Keep your own rooms, if you want-”

Ancel decided he’d had enough of the nonsense as he wrapped his arms around Berry’s neck and pulled him into a kiss, effectively shutting him up. Berry didn’t need much more encouragement to kiss him back, holding him close.

Eventually Ancel pulled away to look up at Berry flirtatiously through his eyelashes. “I don’t know, your rooms are so much nicer.”

“Are you sure?” Berry asked, oddly hopeful.

“I’m sure,” Ancel said with a grin and leaned in to kiss him again.

He’d cleaned up a bit after the performance with Ollie, but he’d done a purposefully slapdash job of it, assuming his new master would want the thrill of fucking him fresh from the ring. That didn’t seem right anymore, but Berry had a private bathing chamber in his suite and it didn’t take much coaxing to get him to join Ancel in the tub.

He washed the paint from Ancel’s skin first, then ran soapy fingers through Ancel’s hair, careful not to tangle or pull. Ancel basked in the attention, in the obvious care in his touch. Ancel was _his_ now. For the year, at least. For once he found he wouldn’t mind if it were longer. 

Once he was clean Ancel turned and climbed into Berry’s lap, kissing him while Berry’s hands wandered over his back, his thighs, his ass. Eventually Ancel demanded they leave the tub and Berry fucked him in his giant bed, not caring that Ancel’s hair was making the sheets damp. After it was over they lay curled together, Ancel with his head on Berry’s chest watching the fire dancing behind the grate while Berry stroked his back.

“The clothes were from you,” Ancel murmured, pleasantly worn out after everything that had happened. “And the earrings.”

“Yes,” Berry said.

“And the note. That was from you too.”

“It was an offer of a contract,” Berry said quietly. “I thought you were offended, at first. That I’d dare offer when what you really wanted was Auguste. When I found out you hadn’t _read_ it I felt like such a fool.”

“But you didn’t offer again,” Ancel said, propping his chin on his hand to peer at Berry’s face.

“I never thought you’d want me without a contract, but you _did_ and I…” Berry blushed. “I was afraid to ruin things.”

“I thought you were the King’s valet,” Ancel said matter-of-factly, too blissed out now to feel embarrassed.

“What?” Berry asked with a startled laugh. _“Why?”_

“Your ugly jackets,” Ancel said, rolling his eyes.

“They’re- velvet.”

“They’re ugly,” Ancel repeated. “Anatole is _your_ tailor isn’t he. Poor man. No wonder he was so excited to make clothes for me.”

“My clothes aren’t that bad,” Berry said. Ancel laughed and shut off his protests with a kiss.

He must have drifted off without realizing it, because the next thing he knew it was morning and he was waking up warm and cozy with Berry’s arm wrapped around his waist. There was a small sound from outside the bedchamber, the only warning before the door swung open and a sour-faced older man walked in.

Ancel gasped in shock, pulling the covers up to hide as much of his naked body as possible. They’d been found out. The servant would talk and Ancel’s reputation would be ruined. He’d never get another contract again-

“Ancel?” Berry asked.

Ancel looked over to see that he was watching Ancel with concern. Suddenly Ancel remembered the events of the previous night and let out a relieved laugh. It was alright- they didn’t have to hide anymore.

“Breakfast is ready in the parlor, Your Lordship,” the older man said. Ancel recognized him now- it was Parsins. “There’s more than enough for two.”

“Thank you,” Berry said with a nod and Parsins showed himself out.

Ancel turned to look at him. It was the first time they’d gotten to wake up together in the morning instead of Berry sneaking out in the middle of the night.

Berry looked gloriously rumpled, soft in the gentle morning light. He was so _young._ And handsome. And as it turned out, rich and powerful. Ancel felt his heart flip over, pleasantly this time, as he considered the fact that Berry had bought his contract and now Ancel was allowed to be with him without having to sneak around. And Ancel wanted that, and him, more deeply than anything he'd wanted before. 

“Are you alright?” Berry asked.

“Of course I am,” Ancel said, and meant it.

It was like something out of a fairytale- he’d gotten the best contract at court after all.

_fin._


End file.
